Tuesday, December 31, 2013

My Kind of Year Summary

(Vimeo's a dick so I'm not able to show you the video for the moment.)

First of all, a summary of all the selfies I've taken this year. It has been a wonderful bit of liberation to no longer care or feel guilt about these self-indulgent photographs; thank you Tavi, thank you Rookie, thank you this video:

Now, the most important part; how was this year bookwise?

HORRIBLE.

Seriously, I've never had such a bad reading year. Normally, by December, I'm able to say that I've read at least three to four really great books. Books that stay with you, you know what I mean? (Yes, the cheezyness is all part of the universal truth of great books.)

However, the only really AMAZING book I read this year was Lolita.

If you've never read it then you're missing out on a huge pie of genius.

Maybe it was because, honestly, I didn't read a whole deal this year. Between school, blogging, but, more importantly, my dedication to writing, I read less than 30 books, which is like SHAAAAME!

Most of the shit I read -Waiting for Godot, Brave New World, The Remains of the Day (Kazuo Ishiguro)- was not actually bad, just not good enough.

I did, however, read Love in the Time of Cholera.

Pardon my puberty-struck pose. I don't what the eff.

Meh, it was good enough. If you have the kindness in your soul to pardon García Marquez's guilty pleasures as a writer, it's good. His prose is art, man, art.

Right now I'm reading Siddhartha which is also plain GENIUS. I wish I could finish it in the next 12 hours, so that I could say that I've read at least two really great books this year. Who know, maybe I can.

I've been wanting to read Lolita for who knows how long, and now that you put it above other (greatly) known titles- I'm yearning for the opportunity, but I have yet to find it anywhere in my small town.